Brightly Rising
by Limelaser
Summary: Book 2 of the legendary story of Lavan Firestorm
1. Chapter 1

Brightly Rising

Book 2 of the legendary story of Lavan Firestorm

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 1_**

Tanea Kierr was watering her herb garden, it was of course the middle of winter. The sky was grey and clouded over, her bones ached a little with the cold.

But that didn't stop her plants from growing under her tender care. She was an old lady, with brown hair closer to grey, adventure in her eyes and a posture that spoke of kindness. She lived out here in the mountains and no one knew she was there, other than her goats for whom she grew her medicinal herbs.

She was forced to live on the mountains of White Foal Pass due to her gifts, which she liked to refer to as her curses, she had the gift of empathy along with a hint of mind speech, not enough to be useful just enough to sense the presence of people. Although it had been useful in avoiding the Valdemaran forces as they passed.

She knew about the war with the Karsites that was going on in the south and she wasn't all too pleased that they would be passing within 3 leagues of her, it might after all set her curses off.

No Healers or Heralds had gotten to her in time before the emotional burden of all the people around her forced her to become a hermit. And as far as she knew they still did not know she existed.

She was just watering her Camomile when she felt a mix of anguish, pain, rage and despair that was so strong that she fell to her knees, gasping for air.

And then suddenly there was a blinding light in the distance; coming from what appeared to be a huge fireball that was pulsing and growing, it looked like the air itself was on fire, and the rage that came rolling in waves was not that of the sane. It lasted for what seemed like hours but was more likely to be seconds, and then as suddenly as it had started it stopped. And mercifully her curses started to settle down.

But as she was steadying her breathing, she sensed the panic of the retreating Valdemarans and blackness closed around her, and she toppled over sideways.

Tanea opened her eyes with a start to find two goats staring at her, one was missing a horn and the other had a black streak in the shape of a lance on its forehead, these were her favorite goats, Lance and Merta.

She sat up with a start and saw the dissipating smoke, she remembered the fire, and thought that she had passed out for a few minutes from the intensity of the emotions that her curses had detected, then she remembered that terrible heartbroken rage that she had felt.

She decided she should go and see if anyone had survived and needed her help, so she called to Lance and Merta and went to the house to get a sling she had for her goats usually used for firewood but would also do as a stretcher.

She slung a pack over her shoulder and grabbed her walking cane, called to her goats and then set off toward the site of the fire to look for survivors.

* * *

It was a few candle marks before she reached the edge of where the fire was and as she looked around in disbelief and utter horror, she started to feel a sinking feeling in her gut as she studied the barren soil and rock.

There were no trees, bushes or even birds left. Only ashes.

Her first thought was that no one could have survived this, yet something told her she had to go on, that someone had survived and needed her help, and so she carried on, her goats helping her navigate the unstable paths and slopes.

* * *

After candle marks of travelling the barren land made up of cracked rock and scorched earth, the eerie silence the lack of life created sent occasional shivers down her spine, she reached what appeared to be the centre of the fires, and lying in the centre was a boy with hair a mix of chestnut brown and fiery red and freckles on his face. He was a bit lanky but appeared to be around sixteen? Seventeen? Certainly not old enough to be in the Guard _"unless they have needed to lower the age limit for recruitment due to the war". _

He was unconscious, dehydrated and badly burned.

"_Though how he survived is beyond me" _she thought to herself.

She reached out to touch his arm and felt the same mind that had been behind the terrible fire, from what she could sense he had been driven insane.

She gasped and stumbled backwards, but then remembered he was unconscious.

She reached out again to get a better idea of his state of mind.

She thought that she could sense some kind of severed link that created a despair so deep his he had gone into a coma so deep that he might not come back. But by some miracle the severed link kept his mind anchored to the world.

His mind might by a miracle, be able to heal but it would take time, she could sense his mind barely working but dimming, his lungs from what she could tell were burned the boy was dying.

She could probably save his body and if she could keep him asleep his mind might heal or it might not and he might die even with her help, leaving a hollow shell behind.

_"__But even so, I have to try!"_

Squaring her shoulders she whistled to her goats, a sharp piercing whistle, and brought out the sling that she had packed, carefully she slid it under the boy and attached it to her goats.

She started to walked back in the direction of her cottage, it was a little bit easier; as she had traveled the rout to the boy, and had roamed these mountains for most of her life.

* * *

It was just after sundown she finally reached her cottage. It was partially inside the rock, the kitchen and entrance were built out of wood extending out of the cave. She had erected walls inside as well to add a bedroom and a sitting room for in the evenings when she ate her dinner, along with a workstation for her herbs.

She settled the boy into the bed, and she went around lighting the fire and the precious few oil lamps she owned.

Then started to make some soup, it would help with the boys dehydration and also to give his body some of the the energy it would need to heal.

She then got up leaving the broth to cook and reached up to one of the shelves on the wall and grabbed a jar of salve she normally kept for burns.

When she started to apply the salve to his arms he began to moan and she paused, when he settled down she continued, and then applied some bandages.

She then sat down on her chair and started to think.

_I can heal he's body but his mind is another matter, from what I can tell he is so deep in his insanity that he might as well be dead._

She paused in her thinking as something occurred to her.

_How _did_ he survive the fire._

That could be answered later but now she needed to heal his body because while she _could_ heal his body she couldn't heal his mind. He would have to do that himself, or she would have to get him to Healers Collegium. Such a trip was not recommended for her due to her wizened age, and her curses, but maybe she thought, "_maybe I have spent enough time away from people that my curses might be able to handle it."_

She pondered the options she had until the broth was ready. After she was satisfied with the amount she had been able to get down his throat, she went to bed wondering who he was and as sleep claimed her she wondered if the Healers at the Valdemaren's army camp could help.

_Something to think about in the morning._ She thought as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Authors note: This is my first fanfic, but I am aiming to do 1,000 words per chapter at a minimum, also please don't expect the updates to be regular as it can sometimes take a while for me to get inspired. Also the next chapter will be from Lavan's POV I am going to keep switching between the two._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one.

Also, I am using some words from Brightly Burning I hope nobody minds but this chapter begins moments after Kalira's death. Enjoy.

**_Chapter 2_**

The last thing Lavan Chitward remembered were flames, swirling raging around him as the dragon inside reared it's head roaring trying to break free.

The small part of his mind that wasn't taken over by the beast that was rage and anguish, held on, trying to buy enough time for the Valdemaran forces to flee.  
But it was a loosing battle, as the beast strained against him.

Kalira was dead, there was nothing left for him on this world. It was time for him to move on to the havens.

As he lay over Kalira's body, the dragon unleashed, it was unfettered and free to ravage as it willed. All of his rage, grief, and hatred filled it and gave it a power beyond any nightmare imaginable. So long as it consumed him, he was beyond caring. :Wait for me, beloved. I am coming. But first, I will avenge you. . .: He closed his eyes, gave himself over to the dragon, and set the world, and himself with it, aflame.

But alas the dragon wanted to live, to rage, to burn, and for that it needed its host.

As the world burned around him, the flames barely touched Lavan.

And so, as the fire continued to rage, darkness consumed him.

It was like the coma he had been in after the fire at the Merchants School, but the difference now was that Kalira was dead, and he had no will to live.

And so, he fell deeper and deeper into his coma. Deeper than what was probably. The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was the sound of the Death Bell tolling. And the thought that "Herald Lavan Firestorm is dead, now all that was left was Lavan Chitward the firestarter".

When he recovered a little, he was dimly aware as before of everything around him.

After a while a kind lady bent over him muttering to herself for a while and glancing around before she seemed to make up her mind about something, she then put him on a stretcher of sorts. He blacked out for a little and when he next awoke, they entered a house of sorts. Part of it was inside a small cave and the other was constructed out of wood.  
When she put him in a bed he didn't really notice, it was when she started to apply some kind of salve to him and, all of a sudden he thought of Kalira. And how it was she who was in need of healing.

And then he remembered that Kalira was dead; and he tried to cry in grief, but the sound that made it past his lips was merely a moan.

Then as the rage started to build up again, it was too much of a strain on his mind. And the darkness of the coma claimed him.

* * *

He dreamed he was in the Merchants School once again, although everything seemed different, all the colour appeared to have been washed out.

He was standing in Master Keileth's office, his body ached with suppressed rage.

Only, his head didn't hurt any more than his body, which wasn't normal. He pondered that for a second and decided to ignore it.

He was just getting a lecture from Master Keileth about not picking fights with the Sixth Formers, especially Tyron Jelnack, which was odd because he didn't remember the fight. "I must have blacked out again" he bowed to the master "It won't happen again sir" he managed to say.

"You see that it doesn't young Lavan".

As he bowed and turned around to leave Kelieth spoke again.

"And Lavan, we have a new student starting tomorrow, she will be in your form and I would kindly ask you to show her around and catch her up on the classes". He said it like a request, but the stern tone indicated it was more of an order.

"Of course, sir" Lan glumly replied, "what's her name?" as if he had a choice.

"Kalira" he replied and Lan for a moment got the feeling that he should recognise the name, but the moment quickly passed and he headed back to his class room with Owyn and the other students.

Bracing himself for more torment and bullying that he knew was inevitable.

* * *

The next day as Lavan was entering the school he was intercepted by Tyron or as he liked to call him Tyrant and some of his cronies.

Derwit and Loman whom he called Dimwit and Loathsome, Tyron started to speak.

"Well well Scrub, you really don't know how to throw a punch. This should teach you that practicing on us is a very bad idea."

And with that Dimwit and Loathsome started tossing him around.

After what felt like an eternity, Tyrant called to Dimwit and Loathsome, "Okay let's leave him" and as they turned around Tyron gave him one last kick in the gut.

"That should teach you a lesson, Scrub." Tyron said as he and his cronies stalked off laughing, leaving Lan curled in on himself lying on the ground gasping, trying to catch his breath.

When he entered the classroom he took his usual seat with a grimace, his lungs hurt, "but Tyrant kicked my gut, so why are my lungs hurting".

He dismissed the thought quickly and brought out his books and put them on his desk, after a few minutes Kelieth came in, interrupting the teacher mid-sentence.

"Hello Herewan, this is our new student Kalira" Kelieth gestured for her to take a seat.

By chance the only seat not taken was the one on his right so she sat down next to him and started pulling out her books. As she finished Master Kelieth turned and left.

Lan took a quick look at her, her appearance was quite startling she appeared to be around fifteen, with blue eyes and her hair which went down to her shoulders was silver.

He had no more time to look as Herewan resumed his lesson and Lan was once again immersed in his study's.

By the time lunch came round Lan was still sore from the kick that Tyron had dealt to him. When the school bell rang for lunch, Lan got up to go down to the school dining room.

And then paused as he remembered that he was to show Kalira around, and then groaned as he remembered he also had to help her catch up with the rest of the class.

He turned around to approach Kalira but found she was already standing behind him, looking at him expectantly. "Hi I'm Lavan Chitward" he introduced himself a bit cautiously "I'll be showing you around today. Master Kelieth also suggested that I help you catch up with your study's, if you like?".

"Oh, Lan that would be quite helpful, I do believe I am quite far behind" she said a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. They turned around and walked down the stairs to the schools dining room, like a couple of old friends.

Yet Lan got the feeling that there was something really important which he had forgotten, and he needed to remember it, fast.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 3_**

It had been a moon since Tanea had brought the boy to her home, his body had been healed but his mind didn't seem to want to, _"or isn't able to"_ she thought.

She tried reaching out to him through the mysterious severed link, and was surprised to find that his mind was as active as if the boy hadn't been in a coma at all.

She had done her best to heal him, but the rest of the job couldn't be done by her, she would have to get him to a _trained _Mind Healer.

He was healthy enough for a trip like that, and Spring was fast approaching.

Also she didn't want to bring anyone else here, if she did she was fairly certain that her solitude would disappear and people would keep coming.

Her curses _might _be able to make a quick trip to the Healers and back. But they definitely couldn't have handled a lifetime of people. It was time to act, he couldn't just remain in her house, in a coma for the rest of his life, he had to wake up.

Making up her mind she packed a bag, her thoughts swirling.

"_I had better scout ahead, make sure there _is_ a mind Healer before I take him there. I think I'll try the Valdemarans army camp first, if that fails. I'll have to take him to… to _Haven _and the Healers Collegium there have to be mind Healers there. But that will be my last resort, being in the middle of a city would be bad for my curses". _

As she was heading out the door the boy made a small whimpering noise, his face scrunched in confusion, and then relaxed, as it so often did.

_I wonder what is confusing him, maybe he is in some kind of dreamlike state, that would explain why his mind is so active._

Whatever it was, she needed to get going if she was going to make it back by nightfall.

She called to Merta who trotted up expectantly. She mounted the goat, and lightly used her knees to start Merta off in what she hoped was the direction of the Guard post, heading off over the mountains and through the slowly melting snow.

_"__Hopefully I'll be able to find a Mind Healer or at least were I'm likeliest to be able to find one"_. She thought as she started heading North.

* * *

It was near noon when she finally got to the Guard post, her curses started to act up a little and she winced slightly but continued on. When she finally got up to the gates she stepped up to the Guard.

"Heyla, I'm Tanea Kierr. I have a friend who is interested in becoming a Mind Healer and wants to be tested for the gift, I was wondering if there are any here to test her?

The Guard responded with a grunt and in a gruff voice, "ain't no Mind Healers here lass. Sorry I can't be no more help to ye".

She gave a gentle nod of understanding and a small smile that she had to fight for, her curses were acting up, she turned to head back but the Guard spoke again.

"O course, iffi'n ye friend wants it enough she could try Haven.

"Thank you Guard…"

"Kiplin Ansel"

"Thank you Kiplin Ansel"

"It be a pleasure miss".

Tanea turned around and headed back towards Merta clicking her tongue, the goat came up to her and nuzzled her hand.

Tanea gave her a pat than mounted, and directed her back towards her home glad to be out of the Guard post, after nearly a quarter candelmark her curses settled down and she continued her journey in peace.

* * *

When she reached home she watered her garden fed her goats and checked on the boy. He was getting thin, what with his diet consisting of the broth she could pour down his throat.

His condition hadn't changed since this morning. She went to the kitchen and got another cup of broth, when she returned she propped the boy up, slowly, painstakingly slowly she poured the broth down his throat.

Once she finished she got a cup of broth for herself _"might as well eat it too it conserves the food."_

She then went, sat on a bench outside and watched the setting sun. It's reds and golds reflecting beautifully of the snow on the ground and the leaves on the trees, it was a beautiful sight.

When it had finally set she checked on her goats one more time, making sure that the pen was secure and any predators that came by wouldn't be getting a free dinner.

Then she went back inside and prepared for sleep. She then banked the fire, sat down on her couch by said fire, and fell asleep.

* * *

When she woke the next morning, she got up and made herself a cup of sage tea drank it down and then when to check on the boy, when she was satisfied with his condition she went outside and tended to her goats. Then she sat down outside and enjoyed the fresh morning air.

With the grey morning clouds of the morning and the crisp fresh air.

When her head was cleared and her body refreshed she went over to her herb garden and cut off a few bits, went inside and put the trimmings on her workstation, then went back outside to water her garden, when she was done it was a few candelmarks after sunrise.

She went back inside. When inside she opened up the shutters, letting the stale air out, and the fresh air in.

Then she sat down on her chair to rest her ageing body. _"Ah what am I thinking" _she thought to herself "_I'm just putting off the inevitable. _Haven, _I will have to take him to _Haven" and then came the first problem.

_"__How am I supposed to transport a comatose boy all the way to _Haven". Simple she would have to strap him to the stretcher and her goats.

"_All right next problem, how am I going to keep us fed?"_ She would have to pay for the cheapest broth she could at inns and taverns, as long as it kept them alive and with enough energy to make the trip.

"_Ok what's next, ah, shelter, where will we sleep?" _She could probably buy a tent or two at a village, and until then they could sleep in temples. Best to avoid inns and taverns as much as possible, due to her curses, temples would be better since the priests and priestess' emotions wouldn't be so mixed.

And so, her mind made up she started to pack.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 4_**

The days at the Merchants school were, if Lan was being honest with himself, not as bad as they used to be, and I was all thanks to Kalira they had become friends quite quickly, she often had a cheeky twinkle in her eyes; and sometimes used words that didn't quite fit in with the context she was trying to convey.

* * *

On her first day, amazingly neither Tyron or his gang noticed her, and since she was sitting next to Lan nor him either, which was a relief as it allowed him to explain how things at the school worked, how the Sixth Formers were in charge and were, essentially conducting a tyranny.

She accepted it all much more easily than he would have thought possible, considering _she _would be at the bottom of the pecking order when the Sixth Formers noticed her.

Yet she was still her usual cheerful self, even after the second day when the Sixth Formers finally noticed her.

It was another dreary winter day, the world still unusually, looked as if it had most of its colour washed out, even for winter.

As Lan approached the school, he was careful to avoid the Sixth Formers, who were currently tormenting Tori Scrivens whose eyes seemed to take in everything, and they had nicknamed her _Frit _short for frightened.

Whenever he thought about these things he got angry, really angry and he usually got a slight headache afterwards, it had been going on for nearly half a year, and he still didn't know what was causing it, he did have a sneaking suspicion that it was connected to his anger.

When he got inside, he met Kalira at the door and they went up to the classroom were she asked him what was wrong he tried to explain what it was like, and then she asked him a weird question, one that didn't make any sense to him.

"Why are you here Lan, why here of all places"

"Because my parents want me to, and I've got nowhere else to go".

The answer didn't seem to be the one she wanted but it seemed to satisfy her though.

At lunch time when all the students were heading down to eat, Lan was going to try a new strategy; where he would stay upstairs in his classroom instead of going down to lunch.

"_Tyron didn't notice me yesterday, so naturally he is going to pay extra attention to me _today_ best if I don't go down"._

But as luck would have it he wouldn't be allowed to remain, as Kalira took his arm and steered him towards the stairs.

"But Kalira if I go down there _Tyron _will notice me."

"Lan it will be okay, but if it is going to, you have to face your pain"

"But-"

"But nothing, I am not going down there alone"

After a little more protesting and a bit of convincing, Lan agreed and they went downstairs.

* * *

As they entered the Merchants school dining room they were immediately cornered by Tyron and his cronies, two of them immediately circled round and blocked off the stairs, Tyron stepped forward.

"Well well Scrub, I was wondering where you were yesterday! Who's your friend there?"

Lan remembered Kalira words "_you have to face your fears"_ he felt a massive headache building, and then at Tyron's last words he made up his mind.

He pointed at the bench he had sat at yesterday.

And in an even tone with a calm expression on his face, even though he was quaking inside, he looked Tyron in the eye and said "I was right there Tyron. This is Kalira, she arrived here yesterday"

And with that his headache instantly started to fade, he noticed a flicker of fear cross Tyron's face, he felt an odd surge of confidence course through him, just as all the students looked up startled, their postures stiff and alert. Some cowering a little, hoping they wouldn't be noticed.

Tyron's face bristled with anger but he turned instead to Kalira "so you've been here a day, I take it you know the rules of this place!"

She answered in the affirmative and looked down, a smile on her lips.

"So _Scrub _we need a name for your _friend _here. I know" he said with a wicked grin, "we'll call you Gran". Looking at Kalira's hair

Lan, with a look of defiance in his eyes said. "She already has a name Tyron". All the students except for Tyron, his cronies, and Kalira; who was smiling, flinched, Tyron turned to him and said "what was that Scrub" his voice had taken a dangerous tone.

"You heard me" Lan retorted. And with that Tyron threw his first punch. But as if he had practiced the movement until it was instinct, he ducked under the blow, sidestepped to the right and threw a solid punch into Tyron's side that sent him staggering.

Then as Lan rolled to the side he got that feeling that he had forgotten something really important and instinctively glanced quickly at Kalira but where she had stood, was a white horse with silver mane and tail, blue eyes and silver hooves.

All he could do was gape, the horse, no "Kalira" he murmured, he didn't know how he recognised her, but he did.

Just then, the moment was broken as Tyron's cronies grabbed him by the shoulders, securing him, he blinked and Kalira was back to normal.

Then Tyron delivered four vicious blows to his gut and was about to deliver a fifth when the bell rang, signalling the return to class.

As he was leaving, Tyron leaned over him and whispered "I hope that was enough to teach you _Scrub"._

Then with Kalira's help he got back up to class.

"I hope they don't notice me later." He said as he sat down.

"They won't she replied" and for the rest of the day they didn't.

* * *

After that, the Sixth Formers continued to treat everyone as usual, Lan asked Kalira about what he had seen but she was vague and Lan almost, almost convinced himself that he had hallucinated, but he still got the feeling he had forgotten something, and that it was tied into what he saw.

Lan continued to help Kalira with her study's, they would laugh and joke, and whenever she looked at him it was with a smile. The days were getting better.

As the days grew warmer Lan couldn't help but notice how odd things seemed, for example how washed out all the colour was, and he knew that he hadn't somehow damaged his eyes because _Kalira _looked vibrant, as if no one had washed out her colours.

And there was the fact that when he got angry his head no longer hurt and he was more in control.

Coupled with the fact that whenever he caught a glimpse of the Palace, he got an insistent longing, a feeling that that, was where he belonged.

And whenever he thought about these things he usually shoved them to the back of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 5_**

Tanea Kiera was _not _a nature person, at least not when she didn't have a solid roof to sleep under.

They had been travelling for eight days. Since they were taking the back routes where possible to avoid setting off her curses, the journey would take longer than normal.

They had passed through a village two days ago, and she had, thankfully bought two tents, a big piece of canvas and enough supplies to make food between there and the next town.

It had been rough before then and sh now appreciated the supplies she bought. She did earn money, just not much, by selling her medicinal herbs once or twice a year.

The boy, who was still in his coma, that broken link still tying him to the world, smiled slightly and then got that confused look for a moment, and then his face went neutral again.

She made camp in a small clearing. She had set it up with the fire in the middle of the cleaning with the tents farthest from the road. She had tied her three goats on a long leash to tree at the edge of the clearing with plenty of grass for them to eat.

The weather wasn't looking good for tonight with grey clouds as far as the eye could see, there would definitely be a heavy downpour of rain overnight.

So she started to set up a shelter for her goats. Using vines she cut from nearby trees, the huge piece of canvas and the nearby trees. Tying off the corners of the canvas with said vines, making a roof for her goats.

Then she went about heating up some leftover soup for supper. As she stirred the meal the boy murmured a name, something that sounded like _Kalira, _whom ever she was.

She turned around quite surprised that he had made a coherent sound, that might signal that his mind was healing but more likely than not, the active part of his mind was having a very intense dream about this '_Kalira' _whom ever she was, maybe she was his mother.

Or he was just saying random babble, that she concluded was the most likely thing.

She turned back around and focused on what she was doing. When the broth was just starting to boil she took it off the fire and strained him a cup.

Once she had gotten the broth into him, she stood and started to clean up, as they would be leaving a little past dawn.

Once packed for the most part she went to her own tent, satisfied that the boy and goats would be good until morning.

Then, the rain started, she scurried into her tent as the sun was starting to set.

She ate her meal in silence. The rain was pounding on the sides of her tent, the sound was oddly pleasant.

She fell asleep to the sound of the rain, the last thing she remembered was thinking "_I wonder where this boy is from, I hope the _Mind Healers_ can help him"._

* * *

Tanea dreamed of her old town, it was her last day there, the day she ran away, when her curses had become fully active. They had been slowly waking over the course of several moons, but today was the day they had fully awoken. She often had this dream when under stress.

She was in the marketplace looking for some yarn for her mother's project.

Her mother was currently knitting a brown woollen jumper for midwinter, hopefully she would be allowed to attend the dance this year.

Her mother was quite protective of her daughter, but this year she had promised to let Tanea go.

As she walked through the marketplace she started feeling mixed emotions, excitement, annoyance, irritation, disappointment, interest, joy.

Somehow she knew that those emotions weren't her's, that they were coming from all the people around her, the emotions started to overwhelm her, causing a grating headache.

She carried on, plowing through the tangle of emotions, she eventually got to the stall she was after, and managed to find the yarn that her mother wanted and was about to leave when she turned around to find the Wiley sisters.

They both were looking smug, as if they had caught an annoying kitten licking the dishes in the kitchen that were supposed to be washed.

"Well well _Tani _what've ye got there", one said. The other walked up and looked in the basket. "Looks like un dyed yarn yet to be spun"

"Surely ye won't be goin to the midwinter dance with this".

Tanea turned to walk away, but as always one of the sisters grabbed her shoulder and spun her around but instead of one of the Wiley sisters, it was a girl of about sixteen, with bright blue eyes and _silver hair._

When the girl spoke, it was with a cheerful voice, "thank you for taking care of Lan". Tanea turned and walked briskly away heading home, terror in her mind at the curse that had awoken.

When she reached home she handed the wool to her mother and when to her room hoping to get rid of her headach before the dance. As she sat on her bed, her second curse came crashing down on her, and as well as the emotions she could sense the presence of everyone in the house.

She cried out at the stab of pain that arced from one temple to the other. She ran, ran out into the woods until her curses settled down, and never went back.

And then her dream dissolved into blackness, and the next thing she knew; it was dawn and time to keep moving.

* * *

When she woke up, she made herself some breakfast and made the boy some more broth. Once they had eaten she packed up her tent and checked on the goats. As she approached them two of them gave her a cheerful bleat.

"Heyla, Lance, Marta, did you sleep okay". As she approached Merta gave her a playful head butt, "I'll take that as a yes then".

She packed up the canvass she had used for the goats shelter and put it in the pack. She then cleaned up the cooking utensils and supplies.

Finally she dragged the boy out and put him on the stretcher which she then attached to Lance and Merta, she then packed up the second tent and tied the reins of Lance and Merta. Then with the clearing cleaned up she mounted her other goat, and they started off down the road, continuing the journey to Haven.

Spring was approaching, fast.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 6_**

Lan was enjoying his days now, more than he ever had since his parents had moved them to _Haven _from _Alderscroft, _he missed Alderscroft less now than he did a week ago.

He and Kalira were busy memorising more trade routes, it was the last day of winter and a day off which they chose to spend studying together, she mad a joke out of the name of an obscure village known for it's lack of safety regarding traders.

As they shifted to the next page something struck him, the page of trade routes was showing the Karsite boarder and right there was White Foal Pass.

He immediately felt that tingling in his mind, he had forgotten something vital.

Images flashed before his eyes. Valdemaran troops marching through a pass. A fortress with flames roaring up the stone, that was impossible, stone wasn't flammable. And then he saw a wall of flame, a white horse lying on its side, a crossbow bolt in it's side, blood streaming from the wound. Somehow he knew she was dead. _"She?"_ Lan thought to himself _"how do I know it's a she?"_

And then he was back in the living room, in Kalira's house, his muscles all tense his face beaded with sweat.

He did not notice the brief smile that was on Kalira's lips nor the fact that she ad turned two pages instead of one "are you ok Lan?"

"Yes" he managed to reply as his body recovered from the shock. He looked up into Kalira's face her expression one of concern, "really I am, tell you later but first let's get this studying done, the sooner it's done the sooner it's over.

"All right". She looked a little dubious but left it at that.

* * *

After a few candelmarks of study Kalira spoke up. "I think we've done enough studying for today, if we do any more I think my head will explode."

"Fine we can stop for the day"

"Also you said you would tell me about that, whatever it was when we finished"

Lan startled, a bit surprised that she had managed to remember, since he had forgotten he was going to tell her.

"Ok well I was skimming over the map, and when I got to White Foal Pass. I saw flashes of images. They felt like memory's, but it is more likely I was hallucinating." Lan shivered "I saw a Valdemaran army, a stone fortress on _fire, _a wall of flames, and some dead white horse with a crossbow bolt in its shoulder.

Kalira looked at him obviously very interested. "It all felt so real like I had been there witnessing those events in person" he finished off.

"Well" she said "it could be a hallucination, or a, dream, you repressed".

"You mean it could be a dream I've forgotten?"

"Sure" she paused and looked away as if trying to compose her features. "It's happened to me before". She turned back around.

"It's getting late, I need to be home for dinner."

"Sure" Kalira responded, "I enjoyed studying with you today Lan"

"Thanks" He responded as he left for home. As he was walking home, he caught a glimpse of the place and that feeling of belonging filled him. He wrenched his eyes away and continued on his journey.

When he reached his house his father Archer was home early from his guild meetings and so Lan spent the rest of the evening being quizzed about what he had done that day.

When his father didn't believe that he was studying Lam prattled off all the things he had learned until his father shushed him, and gave one of his rare smiles.

"Ok son: ok, now go and put on something presentable so your mother won't nag you. She will be here soon." And with that Lan went up to his room, to await the call to dinner.

* * *

After he left Kalira breathed a sigh of relief, she had almost thrown the game when he asked if it had been a dream he had forgotten. She had had to force herself not to answer him truthfully, that he was remembering his past life as a Herald.

If she told him, instead of letting him remember on his own the results could be disastrous. His mind might never recover enough to exit his coma. No better let him ease into it, he already suspected something was askew. That was good. He would start to remember soon, and with that she smiled. Once she was done, she would return to the havens, but for now she would enjoy her time with Lan.

* * *

When Lan and the family had finished their dinner. He went upstairs to his room, starring at the blank wall pondering the images he had seen.

He finally decided that Kalira was right and they were just part of a dream he had forgotten.

Then he thought about tomorrow and he felt certain that Tyron would notice him. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and went to bed, extinguishing the lamp before he went to sleep.

He dreamed of a white horse with blue eyes and a silver mane and tail. _"A companion" _he thought with wonder, he saw below him an army, with priests carrying gold shrines. _"Karsites" _thought Lan bitterly.

Then the dream dissolved into the scene of the companion dead with a crossbow bolt in its side.

And the dream changed again. There was an assassin attacking an old man from above.

The man no the _Herald _appeared to be in his fifties, they had a struggle, the Heralds face was badly injured and the fight ended when the assassin burst into flames and disintegrated in a matter of moments.

And then he started awake heart pounding, when his head cleared he looked around. It was morning, once everything was in order he went off to the Merchants school, his dreams temporarily forgotten.

* * *

I'm not good with people so I am sorry in advance if I get anything wrong, or the interactions of the characters are a bit off, or the characters aren't quite the same as in Brightly Burning


	7. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 7_**

Tanea was tired, they had spent the past few days continuing their trek to _Haven _they were approaching a large town now, she squirmed a little on Lance's goat looked up, a little startled but continued on, she was not looking forward to this.

So many people, so much emotion, when they were a quarter candelmark from the entrance she felt it, the press of all those minds and emotions pressing against her. The town was impressive, with thatched roofed, the occasional ornate door and she found what was hoping for, an Inn.

Once she saw that, a new burst of energy flowed from her fought on heading for the local Inn. When she found it she when to the counter where a large burly man with a cheerful expression stood serving ale. When he had a free moment she spoke.

"Heyla, me name be Tanea, was wonderin' if ye had a room me an me lad could use fer t'night"

The man responded with a downcast expression "I'm afeared we don' miss Tanea, we be all booked full, even yon hearth an the stable. Now it be spring folks be flockin to White Foal Pass where yon battle with the Karsites was wone, even if te price fer victory be high," he called back to the kitchen "Hey Solann pack up twa travellin' packs" he turned back towards Tanea.

"Thank ye very much kind sir"

"Bah ''twas the leas I could do considerin' that I canno' offer ye a place, an judging by yer clothe ye be on a long journey." He turned as a young girl came up and offered him two packs which he then handed to her "one fer ye, and on fer th'lad".

She thanked him again and left.

* * *

When she returned to the boy she found, that he had rolled himself over and was having some kind of nightmare witch settled dow a few minutes afterwards, she heard him mumbling things like, "fire" and "not the old man" and then he stopped and the silence was a little eerie. She the stood up and taking the goats reins by her hands she started towards the temple.

But when she arrived she found that they would not be taking any guests tonight as there was a sacred ritual going on. So she was now left with the options of forging on until she found a campsite, or camping in an alley.

She disliked the last idea, due to all the people, she had been here over a candelmark and she was getting more woozy from her curses hopefully she would fall into a dreamless sleep and be unaware of her curses until morning. She had already discarded her first option, of forging on, due to the darkness and the likelihood that one of her goats would fall and break a leg.

As she continued through town it was dark when she found an alleyway that suited her needs small enough that she shouldn't be noticed that much, but big enough for her the boy and the goats, the walls were made of wood and the ally dead ended.

She looked at the sky to see if it would rain, but as she studied it carefully she saw no clouds as far as she could see. So she began to set up camp, she unpacked their bedrolls tucked the boy into his and setting about making their meals.

The Innkeeper had been thoughtful enough to include some soup in their travel packs.

After she had fed the boy she took a piece of bread and stuffed it in her mouth as she fed the goats she thought to herself _"why am I helping this boy? I could've just left him or turned him over to the Guard?"_ As she was finishing up with she goats she answered her own question. _"I don't _have _to do any of this, but it's the _right_ thing to do" _as she finished she heard a voice behind her.

"Well well well, look what we got 'ere"

She turned around sharply to see three thugs all with knives and one carrying a wicked looking bow, approaching her with grins on their grubby faces.

Two were stout and looked heavily build with brown hair, square jawlines and dark eyes. The third was tall and lean with blond hair and dark eyes that complimented his features.

"Looks like a bunch o' free food" Saitta the thug on the right, the one on the left replied "an' some goats ter sel at the market"

Tanea started to back off "I ain't gonna let the likes of you take me ride" she reached for one of her pots glowering.

The ally dead ended and the only exit was behind those thugs. That was when they charged weapons drawn. She stumbled backward arms flailing as she hid the ground, seeing stars.

Then she stat up. The two thugs with knives were standing over her, gleeful looks in their eyes. And then the incredible happened.

She saw the boy suddenly sit up, and quickly raise his hand just before the bowman fired at her chest.

She closed here eyes tight at what she knew was going to happen. But the arrow never hit, instead she opened her eyes at the sound of something hitting the ground and a scream of surprise to see at the bowman's feet, a pile of ashes. The bowman, looked at his hands in shock, his bow had spontaneously burst into flames and was now a pile of ashes. He drew his knife, his goons rushing to him to check if he was alright.

And then there was a guttural scream that sounded vaguely like "Pol." And a wall of flame roared up around the thugs on all three sides leaving only one option, _retreat_. And retreat the thugs did, as the walls of flame started closing on them.

This time what she felt was mainly desperation mixed in with slightly diluted, tightly controlled copies of the emotions she felt that fateful day she met the boy. She looked at him in horror for a second, realising that he was the cause of that terrible fire.

But then she looked at his face and she realised that he to bore curses. Maybe they were different from her's but they were curses non the less. And it wasn't his fault, it was whatever had _caused _those emotions.

She noticed he was fading fast, that this wakefulness was a brief thing and soon, he would be back in his coma. She rushed to his side, arms wrapped around her neck and he whispered in her ear. He fell helplessly back into his coma, only this time his consciousness seemed a little closer.

Now, she had a new resolve, he had just helped her tremendously; and for that she owed him a great debt, and knowing that there was a chance he could be saved, she would do everything in her power to get this boy to the Healers.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 8_**

Lan looked up from his book, it was the end of school for the day and the teacher leaving to go home, and the rest of the class was standing up to go as well.

When he was gone, Kalira leaned over his shoulder from the seat behind him "you ready to go" she asked. He didn't look up from his books, but replied in the negative.

"Lan you really don't _need_ to keep studying, your so far aged your making the others feel bad".

He looked up guilty. "I'm not trying t-"

"To make them feel bad, I know." She made an exasperated sigh "it's just a convenient excuse to avoid Tyron".

By now the classroom was empty and Kalira was making an annoyed expression. "Now come on, it's time to go."

"All right." Lan stood up packing away his books and following Kalira out the door. As they headed downstairs and exited the building Lan caught a tiny glimpse of the palace and once again felt that longing.

As they were passing through the gates Lan felt someone grab his shoulders, spinning Lavan around.

Lan found himself facing Tyron. "Well well Scrub, you've been avoiding us. And look who's with him, it's the dead horse."

"Dead horse?" At that Tyron laughed.

"She hasn't told you yet has she? Well it doesn't matter either way. Were gonna make you pay for avoiding us" and with that Tyron aimed a ouch at Lan. But it never connected, instead Kalira stepped in the way and the blow sent her sprawling.

Something inside Lan snapped, an instinct guided him as rage boiled inside and his head started to hurt. He stepped between Tyron and Kalira, and flames leapt up between him and Tyron.

He was shocked, he was summoning a wall of flame. He didn't know how but that wasn't important right now, he needed to get Kalira out of here. "RUN!" She screamed,and they ran, Kalira giving directions when she had judged that they were far enough away, they slowed to a walk she and Lan asked the question that was on his mind. "Kalira how did I do that? Summon the wall of flame I mean."

Kalira looked at him like he was an idiot "with your gift." At Lan's puzzled expression she continued "I'm sorry I forget, you don't remember."

"Remember what?" Lavan asked, curiously.

"Me, Pol, Tuck, your time as a Herald."

That made Lan stop in his tracks, disbelief evident in his expression.

"Those visions you had when looking at the Karsite boarder, those were memories. The way you hit Tyron in the side, your self defence training. Bye the way, what made you hesitate after your roll dearest?"

Flabbergasted at this revelation Lan answered as best he could "I-I saw you, but you weren't you, you were a horse. So what happens? Why can't I remember any of it?" This was it, this was something was telling him that _this _was what he had forgotten.

"Because Lan were in here" at this she poked his forehead "I assume you've noticed the washed out colour, the difference in the way Tyron acts and that feeling that you had forgotten something." At Lavan's astonished expression she laughed.

Before he could ask how she knew she said "you weren't very good at controlling your facial expressions when getting that feeling. Right now you are in a coma, and a kind old lady is taking you back to Haven."

"That still doesn't answer my question, why don't I remember?"

"Because you've blocked off those memories, because they were too painful."

"So why am I here?"

"As to that, I'm not sure. My best guess is that your mind went back to a less painful time for you."

"Then why am I not back in Alderscroft?"

"Because the pain you feel needed a place where it could manifest."

"Tyron and his cronies?" He asked cautiously.

"That's right-we want this next left." She took her wait off him and started walking on her own. As Lan followed her, he turned all of this over in his mind, it was a shock and he almost didn't believe it, except something told him that Kalira was telling the truth.

"Do all the other students know about this?"

At this she gave a slight snort. "No they are all just your memories"

"Then how do you-"

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him, a mixture of emotions on her face, sadness and determination battling for control. "Because I was your Companion." She smiled. "Well I used to be."

"What does that mean?" He asked as realisation dawned on him. "That horse I saw, with a crossbow bolt in it's side, that was you."

"Yes" she said quietly, almost a whisper. "I died and you released your gift in an attempt to slay yourself and the Karsites."

At this, Lan remembered, like it had jogged his memories free from the block he had put on them. He fell to the ground in despair. Kalira ran to his side, he couldn't have an emotional breakdown now. She put her index fingers on his temples and closed her eyes in concentration. It had been long enough that his pain had settled somewhat, and she that was what allowed her to do her trick.

Slowly Lan felt his pain turn into a dull ache. "Come on Lan, we need to keep moving."

"What did you?"

"A temporary emotion suppressant."

"Are you a memory too?"

"No. I'm real, I am really here Lan. Now I have to tell you something important, my death allowed me to give you one final gift."

Lavan's mind was racing "what gift? How much damage did I cause?"

"Lan, I cannot tell you what the gift is, but know that just the mere knowledge of it's existence is enough. And only one Karsite remained, and he was captured by the Valdemaran forces."

"Good."

"Now that you know who you are, your fear is going to try to catch you, to keep you, trapped, your amnesia is what was keeping you safe." She looked at him with those silver eyes "I cannot stay much longer, now that you know the truth. But the old woman who is helping you has untrained Mindspeech and Empathy. And Lan before I go, I love you."

She stroked his cheek lovingly "goodbye. We will see each other again." And with that she dissolved into a silver mist, leaving Lavan alone in the alleyway.

* * *

After what felt like an eternity, Lan got up and wiped the tears of grief from his eyes, to his surprise he was in the alleyway where the thugs that Jisette Jelnack had hired tried to kill him, he turned around and looked around, when he caught sight of the sky over the Palace and Collegia, his jaw dropped.

There was Herald Pol, a scar on his nose, but otherwise ok. He wore a somber expression, and as Lan watched he realised that this was real. He was picking up Pol with the limited range his weak Mindspeech had.

He started sprinting towards the palace winding dandelion zigzagging through the busy streets and narrow alleyways, just as he reached the gate he heard Tyron's voice which stopped him cold.

"Were you going _Scrub._" Lan remembered Kalira's warning and said, it was all he could do to control the dragon, keep it on it's leash.

It had been inactive for months, and it wanted to burn. But instead he turned around, for the first time seeing the Karsites behind him. "It's Lavan Firestorm and with that Herald Pol disappeared, out of range, Tyron sneered and the Karsites charged, but just before they could grab him he managed to touch the gates, and with that, the world went black.

* * *

Lan sat up. Breathing in fresh air, he felt like he was back in his body, and the world was it's natural colours.

Then he saw it, an old lady being cornered by three thugs, he saw on hanging back, a bow in hand. And with that the emotions of Kalira's death came back, but his rage at these men was not as strong, they were not Karsites, he had avenged Kalira.

No this rage was that these men were about to kill a defenceless old lady. And with that, the dragon stirred, the _real _one, and just as the archer let loose his arrow, sot too did Lan unleash the dragon, and just like he practiced, he incinerated the arrow, and as the archer was about to notch another arrow, he burned the bow to ashes.

As the other thugs turned to help their friend, he summoned walls of fire to surround them leaving a side open to retreat. And retreat they did. He would _not _burn people, he still felt guilty about the first Firestorm he had called.

Killing Karsites was one thing when they were invading and burning their prisoners alive. Bu Killing people who were probably motivated by greed was different.

No he would not kill if given another option, that was not the Herald way.

Then as he let the flames die down, the old woman rushed to his side. He could feel himself falling back into the coma, could vaguely see what was happening with Tyron and his Karsites.

He locked his arms around the old woman's neck and quickly whispered in her ear. After that the coma claimed him.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 9_**

Tanea sat, marvelling at the change. The boy had whispered instructions which she had followed. She imagined her mind, and all the surrounding minded around her on a flat plain, the boy had said this was rudimentary at best and would fail, but it would buy her time.

As she imagined herself on the plain she envisioned building a brick wall around herself so that nothing could get in. And all of a sudden her curses stoped bothering her. She had blocked out the outside world. She opened her eyes and started to get up, but her curses went off again. She tried the wall again, and this time concentrated.

When she carefully stood up again still concentrating, it didn't stop. "_Huh, this must be something I have to consciously keep up, at least it works though. Maybe it will become instinctive." _So, she continued she set up the camp for the night. When all was done, she lay down in her bedroll and fell into a deep, restful sleep.

* * *

When morning came, it was time to continue their journey. She hadn't been able to keep up that trick; of blocking out other people's minds overnight.

So, first things first, she built up that wall, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Her curses only bothering her slightly now, she stood up and began to pack up camp. Starting with the pots and bowls she left one cup out and, used it to give the boy his soup, washed out the cup and put it back in the pack.

She then went about putting the boy on the stretcher and packing the bedrolls.

She then mounted Merta, it was time to give Lance a break, her sore muscles aching in protest.

After all she had been riding for a week.

She then urged her goats onward, heading out of the town continuing their trek to haven.

As they were exiting via the gates, when a rider on a horse galloped bye. As he was passing by his right stirrup banged against one of the supply bags on Lance's back.

"Sorry there, I accidentally slept in, late fer work. Be that boy ok?"

"Tis but a scrape an the boy had an a'cident, he won't wake up, I be takin' him to the Healers in 'aven"

"Ah ye be a good lass, May ye have luck on yer journey. Don' mean to be rude bit I am late so..."

"Aye be on yer way, I need to continue me trip. Have a good day lad"

"You too lass"

At this they parted ways and Tanea turned, and continued their journey.

* * *

After they had ridden for half a day she decided to call a halt, so they could take a rest, the found a clearing, the morning dew of spring still fresh in the air. She dismounted, setting the boy down in the grass.

She then unloaded all the supplies and tied the goats to a tree, on a long leash so the goats could have a little room to roam and graze.

But when taking a closer look at the goats, Lance, who was carrying the supplies, wasn't looking as tired as he usually was, in fact he also looked a little wetter than he should too.

A horrible thought occurred to her. She ran to the supplies, checking the three big water gourds they were carrying, two had sprung leaks, one was half empty.

And then, a horrible thought occurred to her, when the man on the horse. Who's stirrup had hit her travel pack, and her water gourds.

She could fix the gourds, stuff some tree sap in the tiny cracks, let it harden. But the real problem was water. She would have to find more water, that one gourd could probably keep them going for a few days, if she rationed it. But at their current rate of speed, the next town was at least five days away.

And if she turned around, it would put them back a day. Not to mention those thugs, who would probably try to steal their supplies and goats again.

She didn't think she could fend them off by herself, and she couldn't count on the boy to wake up again and help her.

So they would have t carry on, and hope they found a stream. Hopefully they would find one in time.

As she was gearing up the goats, and packing their supplies a thought occurred to her. _"How did the boy know about that blocking trick? And where did he learn it?" _She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present.

These were questions for another time. Right now, they needed to find water.

* * *

It was two days later, the last water gourd was empty, and they had yet yo come across a stream or river.

She had repaired the other two water gourds yesterday, when she had found a tree that had sap oozing off it. And after she had tried breaking an already hardened piece of sap. Finding it satisfactory she had poured the liquid form into the cracks and let it harden.

Now they were on their last day of water. They had found nothing in the past few days. It should have been easy, especially with the extra light of the sun.

But they would not be so lucky today... today the sky was covered with grey clouds.

It was time to set up camp, hopefully after a break, they would find some water.

They were under a canopy, the goats were tied to a tree, the boy; still on his stretcher, and she. She was seeing if there were any good mushrooms she could hopefully sell at the next village, or trade for supplies.

So it was quite a surprise, when it started to rain. At first she found it irritating, until she realised the gift they had been given.

Quickly she ran over to their packs and pulled out all three gourds, finding a clear area, she put the gourds down and opened the tops, letting them fill with rain.

They had water.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 10_**

Lavan woke up in a cellar, chains on his wrists holding him to the floor, all the colours were washed out again, so he was back in his coma. It looked like when he was helping that lady, Tyron and the Karsites had got him.

He looked around the room. No one was near, that was good. He had been barely able to hold it together. Kalira's death was still raw, but all this time in the coma, and later Kalira's help, had however, allowed him to keep his emotions in check; to detach himself from those emotions.

Now he was in a place where he could feel them, and let them run their course. And his Gift couldn't hurt anyone, well anyone real.

Soon he started to weep, to weep for Kalira, letting out his anguish that she was gone, and yet he still lived. He wept, not caring if his Gift went rampant.

* * *

It was a week before his emotional storm stopped.

He had a massive headache, so bad he had to keep his eyes closed and slow his breathing. Each breath had been causing the chains on his wrists to jingle, causing a nightmarishly sharp stab of pain to lance through his head.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew he was suffering from gift overuse. _Major_ gift overuse. Kalira had used to help him with it. But now she was gone.

He heard the charred door opening, and looked up to see Tyron enter, striding airily, two Karsite soldiers behind him, it looked like they were acting as bodyguards.

Tyron walked up to him as the guards shut the door.

* * *

A few hours later Tyron and the guards left the room after a taunting session, it was not as bad as Lan thought it would be. He had expected far worse, torture maybe? His awful headache had given him something to focus on instead of the taunting.

He was exhausted and the dragon inside him, was silent. And he wasn't at all surprised when he found himself nodding off to sleep.

* * *

Lavan dreamed he was at the gates to the palace and collegia. The coma world's traditional washed out colours everywhere, his right hand lifted of its own accord, and he realised he didn't have control of his actions.

The gates opened and he strolled on through, he slowly walked through the grounds of the palace and collegia, finally stopping at the weapons silo remembering all those the sessions he and his fellow-_former _trainees had shared with the weapons master.

He continued on, following the path through the corridors of the trainees dormitory's, finally stopping at his old room he opened the door and looked in. _"Why am I going through the palace?"_ He thought.

Stepping inside, he peered at the walls, the tapestries his mother had sent him for his stay here. He looked around, all his things the way they were before he left for the Karsite boarder.

After he had looked around he continued on to the companions stables, as he wandered through he eventually stopped at Kalira's old stall. He looked around and and saw something glowing he looked up to see Kalira's bridle the silver plate with her name was glowing. He touched the plate and, in his dream the world went white and then faded back into the stables but they had their full range of colour. He knew now, that to get out of his coma he would have to touch the bridle.

* * *

He woke with a start. He knew what he would have to do. He would have to escape and get to the stalls without touching anything. He could do that. He would have to open doors and things, that could be problematic. He could use a sword for that.

He would have to get a sword from the nearest Guard Post, he got the feeling that using a stolen sword from his captors would not work on them. Also, he thought that using a creation if rage and pain would go so well. So, he would have to make a plan.

After a few Candle Marks of planning, he realised that he could, possibly, make it to Companions Stables. But he would need to get out of his chains first. And the only thing he could think of to get out, was to try to melt the chains connecting his manacles to the floor.

It would be hard, but not impossible.

* * *

It had taken two days for his Gift Overuse induced headache to settle down so he could begin to try to melt the chains. It was hard, containing his anger powered gift and focusing it in his links.

Time seemed to slow down as he focused on melting the chains.

After several days of attempting to melt the chains, he gave up. All his effort, the precision burning, _and _restraining the dragon, it was exhausting.

All his effort and all he could manage was to get the chains glowing red. After a break, another headache began. But as he let his head hang forward he realised that he was leaning a little further forward.

The three links on both manacles he had tried to melt, had stretched. If he could heat up the manacles enough; and stretch them enough, he might be able to get enough slack to grab Tyron's sword and cut his chains.

Then he could possibly escape.

As Lan finished that last thought, the charred door swung open, as Tyron and his two Karsite guards entered for another of their random torment sessions.

* * *

When Tyron and his guards left. Lavan was full of suppressed rage. He felt that dragon stirring, struggling against its chains. For now he would have to fight to restrain it. Save its desire to burn for later.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Also I am using some words from Brightly Burning I hope nobody minds, this chapter begins at the end of the epilogue, and all rights to the content from other books go to Mercedes Lackey_**

**_Chapter 11_**

Pol and Ilea picked their way along the goat trail, amidst the somber group to the place where Lavan Firestorm and Kalira died.

It was the same procession that had gone up the mountain to be thwarted by the unstable trail, joined by Macy, Lavan's sister.

Macy had moved out of her parents home and into the Palace as a member of the Queens household, as one of Queen Fyllis' personal embroiderers.

When spring came to Valdemar, and Wulaf said the trail was clear there was no question that they would go.

* * *

"And thanks to Lan, we will have peace to grow," Tuck said.

Pol nodded, and moved to put his arm around Tuck's shoulders. "Yes we will" he replied. "Just like this little tree. If it hadn't been for Lavan Firestorm, neither we nor the tree would be here."

Wulaf was the first to move collecting a handful of pebbles and ringing the seedling with a protective barrier.

One by one, the others took their turn, leaving something for the seedling. Leaving only Pol and Ilea left Ilea held out her hands, giving the seedling the strength only a healer could.

Then it was Pol's turn.

He slipped over the seedling, a bracelet Macy had made him, he hadn't come with the intention of leaving it - but it seemed right.

He straightened locking at the others in silence. Now he sensed that some deep wound in them had begun to heal. It was not closed yet, but in time, they would be whole.

"Time to go," he said quietly, and they turned their faces home.

* * *

As the group was leaving, Pol was pondering the sensation he had felt three days ago. It had felt like Lan and he thought he could sense a firestarting gift active.

But he dismissed the thought. There had been times in the first few weeks after Lavan's death, that Pol had thought he could feel Lan's mind. But that had stopped months before and, as his wife had told him it was a symptom of grief.

But, he had never felt Lavan's presence mixed with a hint of firestarting, and it had been too brief to have been real.

He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, it was time to head for home. He needed to be with Tuck, to be with his daughter, to be with Macy, and help them with their grief.

Pol mounted Satiran, pulling his wife up behind him, as Tuck did the same, pulling Macy up behind him onto the double saddle. Elenor mounted her own horse which she had borrowed from the Guard. While Wulaf, Feodor and the others mounted their respective steeds.

Tuck turned to face Pole concern in his eyes. "Herald Pol, I'm going to ride ahead. Macy is needed in the Queens household and besides, her parents weren't all to thrilled about her coming out here in the first place." He looked at Pol with sadness in his eyes, still grieving over his lost friend.

His companion, Dacerie's head hung low. It do them good to get back to Haven. He gave a sigh, he and Ilea would remain behind as to travel with Elenor. "Go on ahed Tuck, and be careful. We'll see you back in Haven".

Tuck gave Pol his old mentor a nod and without a further word, he, Macy and Dacerie set off at a brisk trot pulling aged of the others who were going at a walk, before too long.

Pol glanced back at the others briefly as they continued they all looked lost in thought as they continued on. Until finally Feodor spoke up.

"Have you heard, they're calling it the battle of the burning pines".

"It be an accurate description." Wulaf replied.

"People won't be forgetting what Lan did for some time".

It was Elenor who had spoken up, witch was a surprise to Pol, albeit a good one. Her first crush had died back there. He had not been expecting her to talk about it for a while longer.

Her comment had stirred through the group.

"Aye ter that".

Pol wasn't sure who had said that but was grateful enough with the silence that followed. Even if it was uncomfortable.

* * *

After they had resupplied at the Guard post, Pol, Elenor and Ilea continued their journey to Haven. Their brisk ground eating trot covering the distance well. The main roads weren't crowded and the snow had cleared.

They stopped at an inn for dinner and used one of the rooms for the night. No doubt Tuck would be a few towns ahead by now, what with not having to slow down for a regular horse, and the Companions ground eating pace.

They had slept soundly that night and continued on in the morning. After waking up, Pol went to the task of waking his daughter up. After the first shake, she groaned, and started coming back to consciousness.

•

_The first morning they had found it harder than usual to wake Elenor up Ilea had taken him aside._

_"__She isn't sleeping well Pol, none of us are. We should expect her to be groggy in the mornings"_

_"__What", Pol had asked in a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood, "more groggy than usual"._

_At Ilea's glare he relented. He understood, grief had been affecting his sleep too. But his Heraldic training had him waking up at the proper time any which way , he felt sorry for his daughter. And was glad too, that she had never been chosen and put through _that _training. He should let her enjoy sleeping in while she could still afford to._

_•_

Pol came out of his memory. He didn't rush his daughter, but let her come to at her own pace. Once she had awoken and packed her things, the family went downstairs to saddle Satiran and the borrowed horse.

As Pol was buying some pocket pies for the trip Satiran called to him.

_:chosen, I believe Elenor should ride up behind you today. I think it would do her some good to spend some time with her father.:_

_:and once we get back to Haven I can take up teaching again, and give you a chance to come to terms with Kalira?:_

As Pol entered the stable, clutching the pied, Satiran lifted his head to greet him. Ilea and Elenor were busy saddling up the horse. Satiran, already tacked up trotted over, trying to snatch one of the pies.

_:I think it's a good idea, I would appreciate that time.:_

_:now we just have to find a way to get her in the saddle. Ah I have an idea.:_

"Oy" Pol said as Satiran's head retreated. "Just for that, you get to carry Elenor today.

Satiran snorted and, he thought he saw slight smile crossed Elenor's face.

When all was ready Ilea mounted first, followed by Pol then Elenor. While Elenor was adjusting herself in the saddle, Pol saw Ilea give him an encouraging look.

Once they were on the road again, Pol handed out the pies, giving one to Satiran. As they continued their journey home.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Also I got the names of the towns and inns from some maps I found here are the links if you look carefully at the one from grabthelapels, at the place where Valdemar, Hardorn and Karsite meet you will be able to find The Sun Serpent River on both of them and then I used the one from printerest to read the other names_****_._**

**_ . /pin/284923113901997100/_**

**_ /2019/07/31/conversation-post-storm-warning/_**

**_Chapter 12_**

Tanea was proud. It had been two and a half week since that incident with the thugs the boy had turned away with fire. She had been practicing that shielding the boy had told her of. Now she was able to keep it up with ease whilst she was awake.

They were travelling along the south trade road now and making much better time since her curses were no longer bothering her if someone walked by.

They had just left the town of Horn and were in their way to Kettlesmith, the next village on their journey. And the last before Haven With luck they would be able to sleep at the Dog Inn tonight.

As they were travelling something felt odd. She tried lowering her shields so she could sense the boy.

And there it was. Deep down his emotional storm had lessened, now it probably felt more like heartache than unbearable despair.

* * *

It was approaching dusk when she reached the Dog Inn. As they approached the in a young boy no older than twelve summers old walked up to the horses.

"Are ye gonna be stayin at our in. We don' 'ave many guests t'night"

Tanea thought on this. It would be nice to sleep in a bed tonight, and there wasn't much strain on her shields, proving that there were so few guests tonight that she could count them all on one hand and still have a finger or two left over.

But it would be a risk. She might not be able to buy enough supplies in Kettlesmith for the last leg of their journey. She decided to take the risk.

"Aye yung lad. How much fer a room an a place in front of the fire. No food er drink."

"Why te fire?"

"This lad got hurt and can't awake, so I be takin him t'the Healers in aven".

The boy looked at her with what she thought was a hint of awe.

"That be a mighty kind thing fer yer t'do. But shouldn'ta is family be doin that?"

"Don't know if he even has any family."

"Oh. Well it be three coppers, miss."

Tanea dug three of the coppers she had painstaking gained by selling some ointments to passing traders who were on their own. Which was rare, considering how close to the Karsite boarder she was.

The boy led her and her goats to the stable. Shy dragged the boy in front of the fire. Not to close so a leaping ember wouldn't set him afire in the night eve if he rolled a little, eve thought his rolling was rare.

Then with some help from the boy who had taken care of the goats, she wrapped him in some blankets.

As she sat in the dining hall of the Dog Inn, she ate some bread from her supplies. The boy from earlier came in and put some logs on the fire, and banking it for the night.

"It be a same ye didn't arrive a few candlemarks earlier."

Tanea turned to face him "and why be that yung lad?"

"'Cause some 'erald and twa Healers came through, looked like his wife an daughter, but who knows, maybe ye'll catch up ter em t'morrow."

Tanea thought on this a moment. "Aye meby I will."

After that, Tanea finished her bread rather quickly after that, and making sure there was nothing on the boy that someone might feel like snatching for themselves. Tanea went upstairs.

She found her room with relative ease. And once she did, she kicked off her shoes and fell into her bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

* * *

Tanea awoke early the next morning. Hoping to catch up to the Herald and Healers. Once up she got around to the business of moving on.

The sun had barely risen by the time she and the boy were on the road again, she had said goodby to the hostess of the Dog Inn before she left. As the hostess was up to start making breakfast for the other travellers upstairs.

Now they were on the road again, heading for Kettlesmith and hoping to encounter the Herald and Healers, so she set the goats off at a brisk trot.

As they traveled, she wondered what would happen if she did encounter them. Would they just brush them off, as they weren't in Haven? Would they help? _Could _they help?

These thoughts were running around and around in her head and it startled her so much when the mind shout came.

It was mid afternoon, when the mind shout that called so desperately for help came, she nearly missed it when the boy sat up and leapt from the stretcher, and started running into the woods.

The boy was up, and running after a moment she snapped herself out of her startled daze and urged her goats after him. She lowered her shields to check on him. And to track him. He was pulling ahed fast, than again she had to go slower to accommodate four goats.

The boy was slowing, he was fighting to stay awake but he also seemed angry, this much she could tell. She almost didn't duck a tree branch in time. She sensed eight minds ahead, three were full of fear and five were full of malice.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 13_**

Lavan wasn't entirely sure how long it had been. A few days? Weeks? But he had been working diligently. Heating up the chains and stretching the links. Every time Tyron entered he would stop the fire, containing the dragon. Tyron would just laugh and make comments on how the chains wouldn't melt.

The chains were almost to a length now where he could possibly grab a sword. That was if a guard came within two feet. He was surprised how much he had managed to stretch the chains

Somehow he had to get the guard to come close enough to do that but what, what would drive the guard to come close enough? What motivated pain? What did pain want? Or more precisely what did _his_ pain and rage want when he had burned the Karsite army.

The epiphany came suddenly, so suddenly he felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He was an idiot.

Usually pain wanted others to feel as it did. And Lan had been playing right into its hands. If he could act cheerful and happy, it might enrage Tyron enough that he, or his guards to come close enough.

So with a plan fully formed in his mind he set to work in one final push to stretch the chains.

That day, with renewed energy at having an escape plan, Lavan managed to get an extra foot out of the chains. When he took a look at them, he realised that he had stretched them as much as he could probably stretch them.

* * *

The next day Tyron came in, obviously hoping to make Lan feel miserable again. But Lan was determined to be positively cheerful, even if he had to fake it.

So when Tyron stepped through the door, he put on the biggest grin he could muster. Tyron's guards weren't with him, that was a good sign that he was becoming lax and didn't believe Lan could escape.

Tyron was wearing a pair of turquoise trousers and a red tunic, a long broad sword hung at his side. The horrible colour clash mad him want to wince. Was it just him or did the real Tyron have a better fashion sense before he died? He blinked and looked again, the colour clash was awful, yes, but also some what funny. He stifled a laugh.

When Tyron saw his smile, his face turned an ugly shade of red that did not go with his tunic. "What are you smiling about Scrub!"

"Nothing" Lan replied trying not to laugh. "I just think that the real Tyron had a much better fashion sense, who puts red and _that _turquoise together".

Lavan laughed, hoping his humour would further enrage Tyron. His hopes were not in vain, as Tyron stepped forward and slapped him, a sneer on his face.

_"__Yes"_ Lan thought as he lunged forward, grabbing for Tyron's sword, he grabbed the hilt in his left hand as he threw his weight against Tyron's stomach.  
Tyron stumbled back, winded and caught off guard. Lan quickly swing the stolen sword at the chains holding his right wrist. The chains shattered as if they had been made of glass. Tyron was recovering his wits, fast.

Quickly he switched hands and broke the chains on his other wrist, shattering them too. He rolled to the side as Tyron charged, trying to knock him flat, reflexes taking over, his muscles remembering the long hours he had spent at the salle with Weaponsmaster Odo, practicing these moves.

Tyron when flying, his momentum sending him right past Lan, crashing to the floor. Lan turned and ran like fury, he dropped and rolled in the doorway. The guards, who were not expecting this move, failed to grab him.

He finished his roll and kept on running, he took a quick look around spying a window to his right, which he glanced through as he ran past seeing a courtyard.

Spying the door to the courtyard through the window, he kept on running. _"Idiots, keeping me so close to the exit"._

When he approached the T junction he took a right. As he reached the door, he heard the sounds of armoured troops, coming in his direction.

He tried the handle, locked. He couldn't break it down in time. He would have to use his gift, something he was nervous about doing, as he didn't have Kalira to feed and restrict his power.

And to be honest he wasn't sure thathe had the energy. He had barely managed to restrict the space in which the fire would burn, letting loose the full force of his gift on the chains. Or had he? He had vaporised an entire army hadn't he?

Maybe in this coma, his gift was limited by his fear. _"I might as well" _Lavan closed his eyes, placed his hand on the door and concentrated. He heard a crrackling sound and, opened his eyes a few seconds later, pain lanced through his temple. He would have a serious case of gift overuse in a bit.

He found the door was gone, a pile of ashes on the floor where door had been. The stone frame was now blackened and cracking.

It looked like the frame wouldn't last to long, so he ran through. Right out into the open courtyard, the washed out sunlight shining on his face.

A few seconds later he turned at he sound of startled yells to see the frame collapse. Trapping the soldiers inside. He turned, and ran for the wall, already hearing the troops stationed outside coming to see what all the commotion was about. He just hoped he wouldn't be here when they arrived.

Spying a doghouse near the wall, he changed course, clambering up, he reached the top of the dog house. Taking a second to get his bearings, he leaped. Just catching the top of the wall. He scrambled up and over droppin to the ground on the other side.

Lying there, stunned he heard the guards come into the courtyard, swearing and cursing in Karsite.

After catching his breath, he got up. And ran into a nearby ally, he began taking turns, not caring where he ended up, just as long as it was away from them.

After what felt like candlemarks he finally stopped and looked around. He was in a square where what appeared to be a market was going on, the smells of the food were intoxicating, the sales calls of the stall keepers distracting, but he had to ignore them. It was hard, really hard, but he kept reminding himself that he had to wake up. Had to escape this coma.

He shifted his gaze casting it around until he caught a glimpse of the palace and collegia. He started toward it hoping that he might be able to find a way to the stables. He hoped he was right and that Kalira's bridle would release him from his coma.

As Lan neared the palace, legs aching, side's heaving, he found he was greeted by the palace walls, and judging by how far away the palace still was, and by its orientation. He guessed that he was at the edge of Companions Field.

* * *

After walking around for a half candelmark, the sun was starting to set when Lavan had found everything he was looking for. A couple of empty crates and a few large stones, which he moved over to the wall and started stacking. One atop the other… Then he added the stones.

If this was real, he would have already been arrested by the many guards that should have been posted at the wall. But, stepping on the last stone he just managed to grasp the top of the wall as his crates gave way and crashed to the floor.

Hauling himself up and over the battlements, he landed on the walkway with an exhausted grunt. Slowly, looking around, he got to his feet, there were no guards on the walls, and, in the dim light of the torches on the walls, he quickly found a set of stairs. Going down he noticed, again, the absence of the guards, there should be at least a few on the stairs.

When Lan reached the door at the bottom of the staircase, he tried the handle, and to his surprise it was unlocked. He opened the door and walked through, into Companions Field.

He turned around, hearing shouts, the Karsites had found him. He turned and ran. He ran and kept on running, eventually he stopped trying to catch his breath. After a few moments, he looked up and kept on running. Eventually he found himself stumbling through a grove.

He dimly recognised it as he ran through. It was the clearing where Rolan, the Kings Own's Companion, had offered him sanctuary should he ever need it.

It felt like lifetimes ago. As he left the grove, he heard the scream. It was a call for help. The mind voice seeming familiar. He looked up and saw Pol's face in the sky.

He was nearby, and he was calling for help. Lavan stopped and turned around. Rolan had promised he would be safe in the clearing, he hoped it would keep him safe from Tyron and his minions.

He turned around, returning to the clearing. He looked around, and, in the fading light, he saw something glittering on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. It was a companion hair bracelet, it looked to be one of the one his sister, Macy had made. Maybe this would get him out, even if it wasn't Kalira's bridle. He closed his eyes. Concentrating on his memories of Kalira and the Heralds.

Then with a sudden gut wrenching twist, he felt like he was falling.

* * *

Lavan jerked awake. He could tell awake by the, fact that the colours of the world weren't washed out. The sky was nice and blue, and the sun was warm overhead. It looked to be around mid afternoon. The trees were a rich green, birds were chirping. It looked to be mid spring.

He sat up for a second locating Pol, _"where is he."_ There, there he was, Lan leapt off the stretcher, ignoring the startled old lady mounted atop a goat, running in Pol's direction hoping that he would get there in time. He could already feel himself slipping, his coma trying to drag him back in.

He was crashing through the underbrush when he heard a shout. He slowed down. Sensing the minds of Pol's attackers, he began to grow angry. Suddenly, he felt fear, fear that his gift would go off, running wild again, and killing everyone. And, just as quickly, shoved it away. He would have to use his gift.

He continued on trying to make as little noise as possible.

Finally, he reached what appeared to be a clearing, with something he recognised as a Heralds Waystation. The he saw Pol, Elenor and Ilea, standing before a group of brigands, with what looked to be cheap swords pointed at their throats. Satiran was rearing and prancing. One of the brigands was shouting at him.

Then he spotted the brigands horses, twenty three meters away. Further back into the forest, no doubt to keep them hidden from prying eyes, one still had a sword strapped to the saddle. Maybe he could get it.

Sneaking through the forest, Lan got a few scratches, from bushes with thorns and sharp twigs. It was harder than it looked, trying to move fast, whilst trying to stay quiet and unnoticed.

When he got within one meter he heard voices being raised, quickly he grabbed the sword, testing it's balance, then he turned towards the group of brigands, and, taking a deep breath and a quick glance around the camp, he stepped into the clearing, preparing to face the brigands.

**A/N: This it the longest chapter I've written yet. Over 2,000 words (not counting the A/N), it took me two month to write it, I generally write a few chapters ahead as I am writing this, Brightly Rising has 9 chapters posted on . And I know you guys are leaving reviews, I am just having some difficulty finding them. I only just found the reviews section & finished writing this chapter today (31/10/19) **

**A/N: TMI Fairy thanks for the reviews I really appreciate them, I looked into the typos you mentioned and couldn't find them. I am Dyslexic, and I apologise for any that pop up.  
As for Lavan not burning the thugs alive, well in Brightly Burning, Lan always had a problem burning people alive, and in the next chapter it will be explained in a bit more detail. (I hope I can explain it well enough)  
Also sorry if anyone or out of character, I'm not good with people.**


	14. Chapter 14

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 14_**

Herald Pol was packing up camp, it had been a restless night there was a slight feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was from the dubious food the Innkeeper at the Dog Inn had given them, or if it was one of his gifts acting up.

Or maybe it was anxiety he hoped he hadn't been away from the Collegia too long, what if a new Trainee had turned up with a strange gift and was in urgent need of teaching. You see Pol was an unusual case, he had literally every gift, just a trickle mind you, his Mindspeech was his strongest gift.

So if some new Trainee turned up with an uncanny gift, Pol was usually the one the Heralds turned to to train them, like with Lan.

He paused in his task, the camp nearly packed, the thought of Lan still sent a stab of pain through his heart. Lavan had been his Trainee. He was too young, too young to have been sent to war. Even if his sacrifice was enough to send the Karsites running, it still hurt.  
He shook his head turning back to his task.

It took another quarter candelmark to pack up camp that morning, Pol had not slept that night, his thoughts going over what he had thought he had felt.  
That trace of Lan and a hint of firestarting? He was convinced it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but some, small part of him was also convinced that it _was_ Lan.

His thoughts were spinning around and around and it was slowing him down. He had finished packing his gear and assigned camp supplies, but it took him longer to do it than usual.

_:chosen, I do believe that your mind _is _playing tricks on you, now is not the time to dwell on things.:_

Pol sighed as he tied his gear to Satiran's saddle. He then went over to the horse and helped Elenor tie the rest of the gear and equipment to the horses saddle.

They had decided to tie two thirds of the supplies and equipment to the horse and have two people ride Satiran as to equally distribute the weight.

When he was done, he strolled over to Satiran. Mounting he then extended his hand down to his daughter, helping her up. Ilea mounted the horse, and after orienting himself using the still rising sun to get his bearings.

They then continued off on their trek. He judged that they should make it, three quarters of the way to Kettlesmith before sundown.

It was a pleasant spring day, blue, cloudless, sky, birds singing. They even saw a doe and it's fawn galloping through the trees. Pol didn't pay much attention though. By the time the stoped for lunch he was tired and riding was taking most of his concentration.

So he was surprised when, just as they had begun to pack up, and he was putting down his bowl, that a group of eight scruffy men marched into the clearing. Drawing cheap iron swords that were starting to rust.

They wore green tunics, brown trousers and had empty sword sheaths strapped to their waists bu thick leather belts.

He started for his weapons, cursing himself for not strapping on his sword. He knew that they would cut him off before he could get to them, but he had to try. He desperately sent out a mind shout, hoping there was another Herald nearby who could hear him.

Two of the brigands stepped in front of him cutting him off. Just then Satiran came charging into the clearing rearing and prancing. Pol looked about to see Ilea and Elenor had also been captured.

One of the brigands, the leader Pol assumed, stepped up to him brandishing a sword as did all the others who weren't occupied in restraining them.

Sword point resting lightly against Pol's throat, the brigand turned to Satiran.

"Ifin ye wan' yer 'erald ter live, surrender."

After a few moments Satiran returned his flailing hooves to the ground.

"Now there's a good lad."

The leader turned back to Pol. "Now, let's see what valuables yer hav wit' yeh."

"Valuables, Heralds don't carry valuables!"

"At depends on wha ye consider valuable. Swords, knives, pots and pans, medicines. I'd bet a pretty penny that them girls o yours carry medicines, seein as they're Healers."

Pol stood still as the brigands searched through their belongings, stacking what they deemed valuable in a pile off to the side. At last, the leader stoped. The pile was very small.

"Ye ain't got much. Why're ye travelin so light? Any Heralds or Healers returnin from circuit have more an ya."

"We weren't returning from circuit, we were returning from the gravesite of a friend."

The leader threw a disgusted look at Pol, noticing Elenor's defiant glare. He strolled up to her. "Where's the rest?"

"There is no more" she replied. By now his face was growing red with anger. He started to draw back his fist, still striding toward her. Pol struggled, and stoped, there was that feeling again, it was much stronger this time.

Pol looked around just in time to catch a glimpse of someone before a wall of flame leapt up between the brigands and his family. The brigands holding Elenor and Ilea, startled releasing their grips on their captives hands and fled, freeing Pol and his family. Pol turned to Satiran rearing in fright.

He went over to his Companion trying to soothe him, and after a few minutes, the flames died down. Showing two of the brigands running away, four on the ground, and a boy lying face down, passed out.

* * *

Lavan strode into the clearing sword at the ready, when he was within ten feet of them one of the brigands turned his way. On instinct, Lavan raised his hand, summoning a wall of flame between his friends and the brigands.

Startled, the others took a hasty step back. Shock clearly showing on Their faces. The leader - the one he assumed was the leader - was one of the fire to turn seeing the boy, holding a sword, with his arm raised. He then did the silly thing and attacked.

The leader stepped in for a clumsy overhead swing with his sword. Lan easily deflected, the reflexes the weapons master had drilled into him taking effect.

He rolled to the side as another of the brigands tried an under hand slash at him, ducking under the blade Lan finished his roll. Coming to his feet, he slashed his opponents leg, igniting the grass under his other leg as he spun to face the other five.

He went for the closest one, feinting an overhand strike to the thug's left flank, Lavan successfully distracted him from the leg he sent sweeping to knock the brigands feet from under him.

Lavan quickly stabbed downward. Leaving the thug to breath his last breath, Lan turned around and saw that the flames he had summoned, had not spread.

Whilst he advanced on the other four, Lan remembered what Kalira had said, "_My death allowed me to give you one final gift"._ Now Lan understood.

Before, Kalira had to control his gift, otherwise it was either off or on at full power. She had fed him the power he had needed, moderating it. Now like other heralds he had full control of his gift. _He _was in control of how much power was fed into his gift.

He didn't know if he still needed to get angry, he couldn't tell, seeing as he was angry right now.

Letting his reflexes take over, he trusted himself to Odo's training focusing on the battle, he hacked, slashed, blocked and parried. Underhand, overhand, backhand, thrust.

Two brigands were left, including the leader. They turned, trying to flee, but were stopped when walls of flame boxed them blocking them in. As he stepped up he realised how instead of burning them, he had boxed them in.

His newfound control over his firestarting allowed the utter refusal to burn _people, _witch he had pushed to the back of his mind during the war was instinctually keeping them alive.

The anger inside him simmered, bubbling, he felt like the dragon was sleepy, docile maybe? If he got _too _angry, he got the feeling the dragon would fully wake, and cause another firestorm.

He then stepped toward the columns of fire, eight feet high. As soon as he stepped toward them, the embers sprouting from him. He fell face first to the ground.

The adrenaline had allowed him to push aside the coma. It was now pulling him back. The edges of his vision grew dark.

The last thing he remembered, before blacking out was dispersing the flames.

* * *

Pol couldn't believe his eyes. There he was, the firestarter that Pol had been sensing, he was sure of it. After all the walls of flame had been a pretty big giveaway. After soothing his companion he began to run toward the young man.

He hoped he could help him. _He did a very good job with the flames, it looks as though maybe he was… trained? _

He was halfway to the boy when he was ripped out of his thoughts as an old woman and what looked to be four goats burst into the clearing. Two of witch appeared to be carrying a sling between them.

So startled was he, that he stopped dead in his tracks, wondering what was going on. He watched motionless as the old woman ran, or rather speed walked over to the boy's side.

As she reached him, Pol recovered from his startlement and resumed his rush forward to help. As he reached them, the old woman had removed his sword and was tuning him over. When Pol saw his face, he froze in shock.

"Lan"? It wasn't possible. It couldn't be!  
No, he was dead, he had to be, Pol had seen the firestorm through Satiran's eyes.

He had been to the area, nothing could have survived. Yet there he was. Lavan was alive and passed out in front of him. _His gift was brought into being to protect Lan from the Sixth Formers, maybe it protected him from the flames? _No, there wasn't time to wast in idle thoughts. The woman was giving him an odd look, witch he ignored.

Turning to Elenor and Ilea, he beckoned them over. Satiran was standing stock still, obviously as startled as his chosen.

As Elenor and Ilea came over, as Elenor Shaw him, she stoped and gasped, frozen in her tracks.

Ilea, however, with far more experience under her belt, merely paused for a second, an expression of surprise on her face before she quickly hid it.

Continuing forward, she approached Lavan and the old lady. Kneeling down beside them, she held her hands over Lavan and closed her eyes.

After about a minute, she opened them again. Turning her head to face Pol she said "there are no injuries other than a few scrapes and bruises that I can find-"

"There ain't any" the old lady spoke up "I made sure o that meself, no, the trouble be in 'is head. Tis some weird kind o coma that keeps dragin' im back down; yer kin?"

Pol turned to her, "and you are"?

"Folks call me Tanea. I'm the one ooh found 'im after that big ol' blaze o fire".

_:Big ol' blaze o fire, could she mean the firestorm at the battle of the burning pines?:_

_:It's certainly possible chosen, goats are far better at climbing than horses:._

Whilst Pol was conversing with Satiran, Elenor, now out of her state of shock, strode up and began her own examination of Lavan.

"She's right, this coma, it looks like it's hiding him, it's as if he were brain dead. Only a trace indicating that he is there at all. I wonder what could've caused thi-"

"Was there a white horse with him?" Pol interrupted, directing his question to Tanea. If Lan had survived, maybe Kalira had too?

"Nay, he was the only one in sight" Tanea answered, looking confused.

"That, would explain it. Loosing a Companion bond can, drive you insane. But loosing a Companion bond _and _a life bond at the same time. That's probably what created this coma."

"It would also explain why the Death Bell tang" Ilea spoke up "him being so deep in his coma that is"

"Hold it" Tanea interrupted "yer tryin' te tell me, that ees an 'erald?"

"Yes" Pol said. "He was my trainee, we thought he had died in the firestorm, the 'big ol' blaze o fire'. We were just returning to Haven after his funeral."

"Oh, so yer be his kin?"

"No his, family, went on ahed." Turning to Elenor, he inquired "could you heal him? Being a mind Healer?"

Elenor took a moment to think about it before answering. "No, I've never even _heard _of a coma like this. It would be best to be in Healers collegium with a team of mind Healers, in case anything goes wrong."

"Ifin' ye can take im the rest o the way, I'll be takin' me leave now."

As she turned to go, Ilea suddenly spoke up. "Are you shielding?" Tanea stoped, confusion on her face "shieldin'?"

"The barrier in your mind."

A look of understanding came over Tanea "oh eye that, the boy showed me that 'e did. 'Elps keep the voices an feelin's out of me 'ead."

It was then that Pol understood, Tanea had Mindspeech and empathy. Ilea spoke up again. "You could come with us, what you are using will eventually fall apart."

At Tanea's confused expression she continued. "The mind wall has no ground to rest on and will eventually crumble."

At this the look of confusion ganged into one of concern.

"I have what you have, with the emotions. And my husband Pol over there has it with the voices. We could teach you."

After what seemed like an eternity, Tanea replied.

"I guess me goats could carry the boy a wee bit longer."

**A/N: IMPORTANT INFO HERE PLEASE READ.**

**I am sorry I am late with these chapters, I suck when it comes to people sot it took a really long tim to figure out Pol, Ilea and Elenor's reactions to Lan being alive and I couldn't post chapter 13 without 14, so again I apologise.**

**I will always come back to a story I am doing and, if it is taking more than a couple of months I will post a chapter telling you that I am running late/have writers block and will replace it with the chapter when completed.**

**And If I am abandoning the story I will post an extra chapter informing you of that as well. And if someone approaches me and I think they ate up to the task of adopting the abandoned story, I will add a chapter with their username so you can continue to read it there.**

**P.S.**

**I just read the some amazing books, if anyone is  
interested they are: Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, and The Last Command, AKA the Thrawn trilogy.**

**They take place five years after RotJ and are part of the original SW cannon. I can say I, personally prefer ****_this _****sequel trilogy over Disney's sequel trilogy.**


	15. Chapter 15

**_Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one._**

**_Chapter 15_**

The group. Tanea, Pol, Ilea, Elenor, Satiran and Lavan, entered the town of Kettlesmith, weary from travel.

As they walked through the town, heads turned as the strange company drew attention.

Turning her head, Ilea noticed Tanea wince and shake her head _Her gift must be strong, or is it gifts? I will have to get Pol to examine her tonight, then we will have a better idea of how to train her._

She sighed, shaking her head. She would have to wait till tonight. For now, they had to find an inn, organise supplies, rest the goats, horse and Companion.

As they strolled through the streets looking for an inn, they saw a sign which said 'Farlog Inn' Ilea raised her hand, the others having not noticed it.

"Here." She said. The others turned, only now realising that they had just passed what they were looking for. Pol walked in and a quarter-candelmark later came out saying that they had rooms for the night and shelter for the menagerie.

At the word menagerie, Satiran tossed his head in indignation, letting out a loud snort, after which Pol profusely apologised to him.

A little while later, after many bumps and bruises, Lavan was upstairs, locked in one of their rented rooms, hopefully that would protect him from people whilst they went to the market for supplies.

* * *

After candelmarks of searching, the sun was touching the horizon as the group entered Farlog Inn, all except Tanea were carrying large bags of supplies, going for the stairs. Tanea, in turn was carrying the lighter bags, seeing as she didn't have as much energy as the others.

Once up the stairs, they entered the room they had hired. Lan was still there, lying on his back in the same position they had left him in.

Ilea walked up to him, quickly scanning him with her gift. Once satisfied that his condition hadn't deteriorated much, she went back to the others, who were sorting out the supplies.

The foodstuffs, were going into a brown bag, whilst the tack repair supplies went into a kit that Pol had produced. The water skins went into another separate bag.

Pol and Tanea were in the middle of discussing some improvements they could make to Lavan's stretcher when Ilea walked over.

"Need I repete miself lad, me stretcher, 'twas designed for haulin' wood, not as a sling fer persons. If'n we make those alterations t'll break fer sure."

"Fine Ms. Tanea." Said Pol. "We will not add a wooden frame."

Tanea gave a small humph and turned back to work. When Ilea reached them, she paused for a second the said.

"I believe it will be time for dinner in about a quarter candelmark. In the meanwhile Pol, maybe you and Satiran could send a message to Haven. Inform them that the boy is still alive."

"It would be hard, my earlier mind shout really drained me, and we're only a few days from Haven. It would also mean big crowds and take us longer to get up the hill."

At the words 'big crowds' Ilea noticed Tanea's face pale a little. Ilea would definitely get Pol to check for gifts later.

* * *

A few minutes later, the group was seated at a table near the hearth. Enjoying a hot meal of vegetable soup, soon to be followed up with some pocket pies.

The conversation was minimal for a bit before Tanea asked a question. "No offence, but aren't ye a wee bit aged ter be teachin' young'uns?"

At this Pol chucked a little. "Yes, but I am the only Herald with a touch of everything, including Firestarting, albeit a much weaker version. On a good day, I can light an oil soaked rag. But Lan there, well you saw that firestorm he caused."

Tanea nodded her head vigorously. "Ooh aye, thought ''twas the gods 'imselves till I saw the la-Lan scare off some thugs with that curse o' 'is."

A man came up with four pocket pies, setting them down on the table and heading off to go serve some other customer.

Elenor leaned forward. "What do you mean by 'curse', they are typically called gifts."

"These things, they ain't nothin' but curses, mine; well they drove me away from me village when I was a young. Never 'ad human contact since, 'xcept ter sell me concoctions ter the occasional trader."

When she was finished, the rest of the group was a little frozen in shock.

"So you've been living by yourself for how long now?" Elenor inquired.

"Bout fifty winters, give er take a few."

"Oh" was all Elenor could say.

After that, they ate their pocket pies in silence before retiring to their room for the night. When everyone had entered the room, and the door was shut, Ilea walked up to Pol.

"Pol, I was wondering if you could test Tanea on her gifts? It would be really helpful to know, so we can strengthen her shields before we reach Haven."

"I believe she has Mindspeech and Empathy." Pol said. "But we could check."

"Excuse me, Tanea, do you think me and Pol could do a test on you, to see what your gifts are so we can strengthen your shields?" Ilea asked as they walked up to her.

"What'd be involved in yer test?"

"I would like you to temporarily drop your shields - don't worry, Satiran and I will shield you." Pol said, "and I will then do a quick scan."

Tanea didn't really look thrilled, but agreed non-the-less. After getting into a crossed legged position. Ilea could feel when Satiran raised his shield, Tanea Lowered her shields, and when she raised them again.

Pol took a shaky breath, then turned to her. "Weak, normal Empathy, and a healing gift that is off the charts.  
My best guess would be that it is the kind where you can sense what is wrong with people."

"Thank you Pol, and thank you Tanea now, I have a good idea of how I can train you. But for now, we should turn in for the night."

"Agreed." Said Elenor.

A few minutes later, the candle was out, and everyone was sound asleep.

* * *

**_A/N: FEAR NOT, I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY. That being said I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't any good. I know, I know, it's very late, there was a little writers block and I couldn't come up with any good ideas, but I did the best I could._**

**_And on top of that I have NO more pre written chapters, so it will take longer for them to be posted. I think I had 9 pre written chapters when I posted chapter 1._**

**_Also I made up Farlog Inn, so don't go crazy reading through all the Valdemar books trying to find it :)_**

**_Also I'm sorry TMI Fairy, Tanea could not be a mage in this story, after all it and it's predecessor are set during the mage free era. Only mind magic works at the moment._**


	16. Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one.**_

_**Chapter 16**_

Over the next few days, Pol saw a massive strain on Tanea, Pol observed as Ilea tried to guide her through the process of grounding and centring. It was evident to Pol that Tanea was trying her hardest, of course she was, if she could master this than she would be able to strengthen her shields; and go about the rest of her life like any other person.

They only had a few days left till they reached Valdemar's capital, and Pol hoped that Tanea could do it in time before they reached Haven. They had no idea how long Tanea's shields would hold without it, and he certainly didn't want them to fail in the middle of a huge city like Haven.

That would be a real problem. If it happened, they would need to shield her until she could either leave the city or shield herself properly.

The alternative was insanity.

The sky was grey and cloudy, and Pol thought it looked as though it would rain tonight. He hoped their luck would hold out, and they could find decent shelter before it started to rain.

* * *

As he was riding the next day, Pol's mind wandered back over the previous evening. They had been lucky enough to find a cave a couple of candle marks before it began to rain, and in doing so, had left them enough time to gather enough firewood and start a fire.

As the rain had began to fall, the animals were un-tacked and given a good rub down to make sure they were dry.

Pol had gone back over to Satiran after finishing the last of Tanea's goats, to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. Feeling like he was forgetting something.

As Pol had approached, Satiran raised his head and gave a soft snort.

_:Yes chosen Tanea is making good enough progress that she _should; _have full a shield by the time we get to Haven.:_

_:Are you reading my mind:? _Pol had sent.

_:No actually, prediction, after all I do know you quite well:. _Satiran had replied. _:Now as to what you are forgetting, that would be dinner:._

It was then that Pol had noticed in his rush to set up camp, and helping Lavan with his bodily functions,— _Thank the heavens that we are only feeding him soup.— _Pol had forgotten that he was supposed to feed the critters as well.

He mentally slapped himself and went over to the packs, pulled out the necessary ingredients to make a warm mash for them. He then proceeded to heat the mash over the small fire they had set up.

Later, as Pol was preparing dinner for the group and some more soup for Lavan, Ilea and Elanor were once again busy trying to help Tanea ground and centre.

After several candelmarks of failed attempts, they had stopped, Tanea was beginning to get frustrated. "I canno' do this, I'm-a sorry" Tanea had said. "Yer may haf ter take th' boy inter 'aven withou' me."

"No." Pol stated. "You can do this Tanea, I remember it took a student of mine a couple of weeks to ground and centre, you're doing just fine, and if necessary one of us can wait with you outside until you fully master it." He turned then looking to his wife for confirmation.

Ilea nodded slowly. "We really should get him to the collegium sooner rather than later, but he should be fine." With that, the conversation ended and, after making sure the animals would be good overnight as the girls worked some more with Tanea. Pol banked the fire and they all had turned in for the night.

* * *

Later that night, Pol was lying awake, trying to sleep but unable to. With dinner eaten and everyone in bed, Pol asked Satiran how long he thought they had left before _Haven._

_: I would estimate roughly three days at our current speed chosen:._

Pol gave a slight wince when he heard that, as he turned to see Tanea, with a peaceful expression on her face as she slept.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Pol had managed to fall asleep, and after what felt like a few seconds Pol had awoken to morning.

As usual, he was the first awake and he set about making the others breakfast before they set off again.

One by one, the others awoke. It was a simple breakfast of bread and cheese. After quickly eating, they packed up their stuff, tacked up the animals and were back on the road.

Sometime near midday whilst Tanea and the others were practising and Pol leaned over to look at Lavan and watched as the boy seemed to be struggling with something.

He was getting thin, Pol wondered what was happening inside his head. But unfortunately, Pol thought, he couldn't find out.

* * *

Lan was feeling bad.

Apparently that last trip out of this coma has drained him, he was so tired he felt sick, not to mention the pounding in his head.

Now, as he lay low in the gardening shed of the highborn who owned this place. He heard them, the marching of the Karsites, Tyron shouting orders.

When they had passed and he had calmed down a little, his mind went over what had happened.

After the battle. Lan passed out. Soon afterward, Lan had then awoken to a pounding headache, in the middle of the clearing in companions field. The sun had already set.

Wonderful, he was exactly where he had lain down, although the bracelet was gone and now he could hear them. It sounded like a bunch of men and they did not sound happy. Looking around as carefully as he could, he could also see their torches.

Getting to his feet, Lan started to get up. Once he did, he stumbled out of the clearing, trying to loose those voices. The voices of search party's.

**A/N: I'm sorry for the delay guys. To be honest I've lost my inspiration for this story and am unsure where to take it, along with writers block after writers block. but I promise I will finish it. It just might take a lot longer. If you want an update, check my profile, I will be posting status updates there.**

**To answer your question TMI Fairy, I am only on no AO3 or spacebattles.**


	17. Chapter 17

_**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this world that they are in and I am making no money out of this. I just want to write a sequel to a really good book that I wish had one.**_

_**Chapter 17**_

As Lavan was hiding in the garden shed, He wondered what he was going to do next.

Now that he was with Pol in the real world, or so he hoped. It shouldn't be too long before they could get him to Healers Collegium. When that happened, he was sure they would find a way to wake him up for good.

As he listened he heard the search party's moving on, and wondered where he could avoid Tyron and his Karsites, and hopefully hold on until the Healers could get him out.

He ran over possible places in his head, the only place from his memory he could find was his friend Tuck's home, the farm. But he dismissed it, for one thing, it was outside of Haven. For some reason, he felt that he needed to stay in the capital.

So, he would have to find somewhere else inside Haven. But he couldn't wander around aimlessly, so he headed of in the direction he hoped a market was.

It was past dinner time and even though this world was fake, he still felt hungry.

* * *

After roughly half a candelmark of sneaking through alleyways, Lan had managed to find enough food to tide him over.

With his stomach now taken care of, Lan began to think about where he could take refuge.

He then remembered that this dream world was supposed to be a replica of his time at the merchants school. And that meant he and Owen should be friends, and maybe he could hide there for a time, or best of all, he could hide in a Guard post. There should bee all kinds of equipment there he could use.

The problem was, the nearest one he knew of was near the merchants school. Nearly on the other side of the city judging by where he had gone over the wall.

After a few moments Lan made his decision.

Moving quietly, Lan moved through the city. A left here, a right there, all the while avoiding Tyron's Karsites.

There were a few close calls, at one point, he was walking down the street. A Karsite came out of what Lan assumed was a joining street, Lan managed to duck into a nearby ally just in time.

The Karsite was still coming in his direction. Continuing down the ally, Lavan wound up in another street. It curved and went I in the wrong direction.

Lavan followed it until he found another ally that when followed led back to the right street, and follow it he did.

Once back on the main road, Lan continued on, all the while being extra cautious.

After what felt like forever, Lan reached the Guard post. It was a massive structure with stone walls that were at least 10 meters tall with a weathered surface.

As Lan walked in, he noticed right away that the place had been ransacked. He walked carefully through the door, checking to see if anyone else was there with him.

Seeing no one, he crept inside, careful not to trip.

It was quite disheartening to see a Guard post as dismal as this. Most of the furniture was turned over, though a lot of it was broken as well making the huge mess on the floor he was trying not to trip on.

Continuing through, he headed in the direction the armoury should be. It took a few minutes but he eventually found it. Walking in he surveyed the armoury, or more accurately what was left of the armoury.

It had also been thoroughly ransacked, although he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was, seeing as how the rest of the place had been given the same thing.

Looking it over, he saw racks knocked over armour stands broken, even the lamps had been ripped off the wall.

Lavan sighed, it would be boring but it might be advantageous to clean this place up. He might even find something useful in this mess.

So he began. Standing up racks, removing trash. It took him around a candelmark but he managed to clear half of the room. And then he found it, there, buried under the splinters of a smashed chest.

A sword, is was plain, unbalanced and had a sheen of rust but very much intact and useable. With it he found it's sheath, the brown leather was old but in good condition. And the brass buckle on it's broad held was a bit rusty like the sword.

Unlike those Karsite weapons, he had a feeling this one would work.

And now he was faced with a tough decision move on and try to find another hiding place... or he could stay here, clean it up a little.

Besides it was in reasonable distance of the palace and he felt as though it would be important later. On the downside, if he stayed here too long he figured those Karsites might find him during a patrol.

Then again what reason would the have to enter a ransacked building? If he hid in one of the rooms closer to the centre they shouldn't find him.

Now, his mind made up, Lavan sheathed the sword and and buckled it to is waist. Lan then turned around and searched until he found a room close enough to the centre, and then over the course of a candelmark, clean it out.

Once that was done he went and found a bed, he had to find the parts in a few different rooms, but eventually he had a place to sleep.

Lan hen took off his sword and put it under the pillow he had found. He then lay down and got as comfortable as he could before his eyes closed, his thoughts running around in circles before he fell into an exhausted sleep. It appeared he was going to be staying here a while.

**A/N: I know this chapter is SO late, I'm so sorry guys, I'm working in ch18 right now and I completely forgot that I had not uploaded ch17.**

**If you guys want progress reports, check my profile. It will probably take a while to write ch18 but I will do my best. I know the destination (how the story will end) but i don't quite know how to get there.**

**Also, TMI Fairy I know not is not realistic, but when writing the soup, I was thinking back to the Collegium chronicles book 4 Redoubt when Mags was kidnapped by the Sleepgivers. They only gave him soup so they wouldn't have to deal with poop.**

**Best of luck guys, stay safe**


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